A small watercolour and pencil piece I made today.
Earlier this week I started writing down a few resolutions for the New Year. When I read back over the five or so different points I had down on paper, I realised that they were all connected and can be summarised in four simple words: To Live With Less.
Simple words, but no easy task!
I mean, as humans, we're like born hunter gatherers. We seem to like gathering stuff, lots of stuff. And you know what, I LOVE stuff. But sometimes all of that stuff can just complicate or clog our lives. So over the coming year I'm going to do my best to acquire less of what I don't really need and shed some of the stuff that I don't really need.
Aside from material things, I also plan to schedule regular tech-free times to avoid digital burnout. Screen time is so important to me, in the work I do, but so is balance. During tech-free time I'll be filling that space with analogue nourishment. Some notes I included in my journal earlier this week were: read, draw, write, listen to music, walk, run, breathe, see, listen.
Thinking on the fly right now, its interesting that some of my best ideas, thoughts about how to resolve a design/tech problem probably come about when I allow my mind to wander or decompress; on the way to get coffee, aimlessly doodling, going for a walk or run.
Here's to living with less, balance and a positive year ahead.
Down a little street in the old Melbourne suburb of Brunswick, you'll find a back alley fondly named Little Gold Street. If you look carefully within that street, you'll find a little door with a golden ink droplet, quietly proclaiming, 'Little Gold Studios'. If you're ever lucky enough to open this unsuspecting timber door, you'll find a natural light-filled creative utopia inside, where during the week, ten makers, tinkerers and thinkers bring a broad range of concepts to life, from varying areas within the field of design. To me, entering this enchanting space felt like stepping inside Wonka's chocolate factory.
On arrival at 13 Little Gold Street, I was greeted by the tiny letterpress powerhouse, otherwise known as Amy Constable, owner of Saint Gertrude Letterpress. Amy was our likeable and generous teacher for the day, sharing her wealth of self-taught knowledge. Starting with a seemingly simple Adana press about eight years ago, Amy worked after-hours into the night, teaching herself the art of letterpress. Prompted by a love of print, the growing letterpress movement in the U.S. and challenged by her boss that 'print is dead', Amy set about celebrating her love of analogue processes and printed paraphernalia. You'll never find Amy reading on a Kindle or iPad, instead favouring real printed books, magazines and newspapers that you can actually feel, touch, hold and connect with. "You won't see me scrolling though Twitter to keep up with what's happening in the world, that's what a newspaper is for!"
After sharing a brief history of printing, the dawn of mass production, printing presses and some basic terminology, it was time to roll up our amateur sleeves and ink up for our first foray into old-school printing.
For quite a while now I've wanted my own letterpress business cards, they're simply beautiful little works of art. They beg to be touched and felt with their soft stock and debossed type. When one receives a letterpress calling card, tossing it away into the recycle bin isn't an option. Attendees at the workshop, and myself included, admitted that we all have a little collection of them upon our desks that we've hoarded over the years. Letterpress printing isn't cheap though, often reserved for special occasions like wedding invites and small run, one off jobs. However, for the next few hours we were to find out exactly why this printing method is seemingly so costly. Letterpress printing is labour intensive, REALLY labour intensive... And fiddly! In fact the cost of having a printer run off your cards for you is cheap, considering the difficulty involved in the process, the time it takes to set up a job and get it printed perfectly. It's no easy feat. Fortunately though, Amy was there with us for the day, patiently showing us the way, tinkering with the idiosyncrasies of her pair of cute Adana presses. During the day, away from the glare of our Macs, we also learnt to mix Pantone colours by hand... Yes, by hand! (Not with that little colour picker tool in Illustrator!) Never again will I question a commercial printer about the fact the my finished deliverables aren't absolutely exactly in line with the colour swatches in my Pantone book. Again, mixing colours is a lot like the analogue printing process, it's open to chance and luck, particularly for a novice like me. The variations or 'happy mistakes' that occur, are all part of the charm involved in a hand-crafted process, which ultimately, is what makes letterpress so appealing. As Amy expressed at the beginning of the lesson, print isn't dead. Print is being woken from its slumber, by a global movement of designers, printers, creators and makers. People who have an appreciation for tactile objects, created with care and attention to detail, that take us back to time when life must have felt a little slower and simpler.
If you ever have the opportunity, book in for one of Amy's classes, I'd highly recommend it. Visit The School to see when her special class will take place again in the future, or book for one of Amy's other course offerings via Saint Gertrude Letterpress. You won't be disappointed!
If you're like me, and have always wondered how to make a repeat pattern, check out this awesome tutorial from Skillshare. It doesn't get simpler than this! https://youtu.be/rs2CDLiSSr0
I sometimes think that the problem with being being a designer now, in contrast to years ago is that we have so many tools available to us, particularly digital tools and applications. A few days ago I started a new set of designs for a logo project. Rather than start on paper, I went straight to screen. Not long after starting I hit a snag. My ideas felt a bit lacklustre and void of feeling; they lacked the mark of a maker.
The following day I started roughing out ideas for a poster concept, for another client. With a pencil in hand, I noted key words in my clients preamble, applied those to some thumbnail layouts which were created so quickly my annotations were illegible, then went to screen. That afternoon I'd created a polished concept and sent through a draft for client consideration.
On the day after, I reopened the logo file for my other client. Still, I felt stuck, so I went outside to rake up the last of the leaves from autumn. (The logo job was for a garden nursery, so I considered my procrastination as being more like research). Later that afternoon I grabbed some brush markers and started doodling. Before long I had a few filled up a few pages full of black scribble, it all looked like a mess, but a few sparks of potential logo images could be found among it all. After scanning these and converting them to vector, that night I had many potential iterations.
Moral of the story: start analogue before going digital. Free yourself before restricting yourself to the constraints of software and a mouse/trackpad. Ideas happen faster when the travel straight from your head to hand, to paper. I tell my students this all the time, but I need to remind myself of this too. Sometimes taking the time to explore before you do the 'real' work can end up being a big timesaver.
The mark you can make with a pencil or brush pen is unique to you, unlike those brush presets in your software apps. Offering a genuine, honest mark, generally equals a happy client. As a designer, it makes the process more rewarding too.